


to have and to hold

by astralgolds



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Episode: s04e04 The Voltron Show, Insecure Keith (Voltron), M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Keith (Voltron), Plushies, idk what else to tag lmao, this is highkey a throwback
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 17:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20157166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralgolds/pseuds/astralgolds
Summary: "Keith stands enveloped in the crowd, staring up at the beaming faces of his former team—the team he almost considered a home. He managed to convince Kolivan to let him go see one of their shows, so long as he doesn’t stop for small talk and leaves as soon as the show ends. He gazes meaningfully at Voltron, fully formed, standing tall and proud and not fragmented at all. There is no missing piece. Voltron is whole.Keith swallows."Or: the one where Keith misses Lance, so he tries to find comfort in something else.





	to have and to hold

**Author's Note:**

> the idea of keith having a lance plushie is inspired by seven league boots (memphis)'s series blue pencils!!! y'all should check it out its hilarious

Okay, listen, it gets lonely being a blade.

Keith…isn’t a very affectionate person, nor is he a very touchy person, but after being a part of Voltron for so long he has become accustomed to a certain level of warmth. Love. Family. Whatever.

The Blade of Marmora reminds him too much of the home. The only difference being nobody pretends the organization is something it’s not, which is kind of refreshing, but leaves him feeling more numb than ever. With Kolivan’s dead-eyed stares, the quietness of the mess hall, and the sheer lack of regard for anything besides the mission, Keith can’t even pretend he has a home in this place at all.

Keith crosses his arms across his chest, gripping his shoulders in a hollow echo of a hug. He’s been doing that more often than ever. When he was little, hugging himself had been a cheap imitation of warmth, a temporary fix for his unyielding loneliness. With the paladins, the comradery had been so potent that Keith was able to pretend he was part of it, and hanging around the outskirts of the room was already enough to feel warm again. Even better when Hunk would crush them all in a group hug or when Lance would sling an arm around his neck. Too bad they would both recoil within seconds. Keith plays the part of a loner too well.

But even then… It was more than enough. Asking for anymore would’ve been too much, and Keith should’ve known that he would return to the void eventually. It’s what he deserves, obviously. It’s always been what he deserves.

Still, he was selfish. He gobbled up every touch, licking the plate for every crumb of affection. He grabbed more than his fair share of any dish Hunk could possibly concoct for his _ real _friends. He lingered in Pidge’s room every time she slaved over a project, hoping that handing her a tool now and then could constitute as a friendship. Every time Allura allowed him to read her favorite novels, he wasted so much of her valuable time discussing them, starving for the attention those conversations provided for him. He skulked in Coran’s presence far too often, overstepping his bounds when he went to him in times of trouble. Every bit of Shiro’s praise had him desperate for more, each compliment causing him to complete unnecessary feats during missions in hopes of winning Shiro’s proud smile, even though more often than not he was met with a disappointed scolding.

And Lance… Keith took too much from Lance. He looked at him longer than he was supposed to. He laughed, smiled, and joked with him far more than he had any right to. He took his comfort, let it seep into his withering heart, and pretended it was permanent.

He wishes he was better now, but he really isn’t. He’s still _ so _selfish.

That’s why he stands enveloped in the crowd, staring up at the beaming faces of his former team—the team he almost considered a home. He managed to convince Kolivan to let him go see one of their shows, so long as he doesn’t stop for small talk and leaves as soon as the show ends. He gazes meaningfully at Voltron, fully formed, standing tall and proud and not fragmented at all. There is no missing piece. Voltron is whole.

Keith swallows.

“Get yer limited edition paladin plushies! Only 35 GAC! Made from the softest material in the galaxy!”

Keith’s eyes find their way to a small, stout alien with eight arms and a box strung around his uppermost shoulders. As he shouts and walks about, his box bounces against his bulging belly. The crowd is large—obviously, since Voltron is only the most legendary war machine of all time—and the poor guy gets shoved around. Some passing quadruped knocks him over, sending both him and all of his merch tumbling to the ground and right at Keith’s feet.

Keith picks up the nearest plushie. It’s Lance, about the length of his forearm, with dark blue button eyes and in a felt version of his paladin armor. He’s been chibi-fied, a head as large as actual Lance’s ego and an itty bitty body. Keith squishes him between his fingers. Then, he remembers himself.

“Oh, quiznack, are you okay?” he says, picking up the other scattered dolls and tossing them into the box. He offers a hand to the six-armed alien, who grabs it graciously.

“Yeah,” the alien grumbles. “‘ve had worse. Thank ya, though.”

“No problem,” Keith says awkwardly.

“Hey, what’s yer name kid?”

“Uh. Keith.”

“No way!” the alien grins. “Jus’ like the blue paladin! Ya want a Keith doll?” He waves a plushie version of Allura in the air.

“Um, no thanks,” says Keith. He adds hastily, “Thank you for the offer, though.” Because Shiro taught him well.

“Hmm,” the alien says. “More of a Loverboy Lance fan, then, eh?”

Keith blinks, then blushes. He forgot he’s been holding the Lance plushie in his hand the entire time. “Uh, yeah. I guess so.”

“Tell ya what,” says the alien. “Tha’s my last one of ‘im. You can ‘ave ‘im. Free. Cuz ya seem like a good kid.”

“Oh. Thanks then.”

“No problem, kiddo,” the alien winks. “By the way, if ya pull the li’l string in the back, it collapses into a smaller version of itself. So ya can fit it into that li’l baggie of yers.” He gestures to Keith’s fanny pack.

“I do not understand the mechanics of that at all,” says Keith. “But convenient. Thank you.”

“Ah, just cherish that boy an’ tha’s all the thanks I need,” the alien waves it off.

Keith stares at his back, watching the alien go off and continue his peddling to the crowd to no avail. He glances down at the Lance plushie before hugging it tightly. “Thanks,” he whispers. “I _ will _ cherish him.”

He pulls the string and zips it into his pouch, smiling softly to himself.

“Wait, fuck, the mission! Kolivan’s gonna _ kill _me!”

**Author's Note:**

> this one's been sitting in my wips for a while. i wanted to make it longer and include the reactions of the team but i just never got around to it. hopefully i'll come back with lance finding out about plushie lance :))


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